


Silverite Heart

by Spiritfox1994



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-01 23:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19187722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiritfox1994/pseuds/Spiritfox1994
Summary: Clara Trevelyan was already strugling with her new title as The Harold of Andraste, and things become even more complicated when she meets a lone Grey Warden out in the wilderness. As adventure ensues, the two are drawn together, and apart, by the quickly changing world of Thedas.In game Canon and some original scenes will ensue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A rather Short first chapter, but I hope you like it. The next one should be a bit longer, with some more interactions between the two.

Chapter 1: The Lone Warden

 

Clara Trevelyan shifted on her saddle as they made their way through the Hinterlands. The space was so big, she could scarcely believe they had only covered about half of it since the first time they had arrived. Her Free Marches Ranger, which she so aptly named Buttercup, stepped delicately over stones and bush as Cassandra rode up beside her, looking rather stern atop her Amaranthine Charger.  
“I think the Warden should be nearby.” She said, her thick Navaran accent making even the simplest words seem harsh. “Those peasants we passed a while back said they had seen him with some farm-hands near the lake.”  
“Let’s hope they haven’t moved on.” Clara sighed, putting her boots to Buttercup to send her into a light trot. The rest of her companions followed, Varric muttering something under his breath and holding on tighter to Cassandra’s belt as he was nearly bounced off of her horse. Solas and Vivienne rode silently behind the two women, as Sera took up the rear, having some trouble keeping her Forder going in a straight line.  
The group made their way up the steep hill, to see a large lake on top of it, A large waterfall falling down in to it, several old wooden bridges and peers jutting out into the water. They rode forward, across a shallow bit and on to the small island that sort of sat in the middle of the lake. Clara looked around, towards the small house that lay on the other end of a longer bridge, were she saw a group of people gathering. Three of them looked like nothing more than some farm-boys, awkwardly holding axes and shields, as another man, taller, wearing heavy looking armor, paced in front of them. The larger man was speaking with an air of command, but he was too far away for Clara to make out what he was saying.  
“That must be him…” She said, swinging down off of her horse. “Wait here, I’ll go talk to him. Last thing I want is for him to think a bunch of armed people on horses are attacking him.”  
“Be careful, my dear.” Vivienne said as she dismounted from her horse, taking Buttercup’s reins as Clara shifted the straps that held her large greatsword on her back. “We don’t know if that’s really the Warden, and even if he is, what his purpose is.”  
“I’ll be careful.” She sighed turning to start towards the group, doing a quick equipment check, her dagger, potions, and so on. “If anything happens, be ready to come running.”  
The rest of her group gave her nods and dismounted, getting themselves ready as she made her way across the wooden bridge.  
“They will make this a fight, not us.” A deep voice came within range of hearing. She frowned slightly, unsure of the accent as she stepped off of the bridge. She slowly approached the group of men as the tall one continued to speak.  
“Make a line there, and there. They’ll know what it means.” He motioned to some spaces turning his head slightly and seeming to notice her. He continued to pace in front of his men.  
“Remember how to carry your shields! your not hiding your holding. Otherwise it’s useless!”  
Clara took another step forward, clearing her throat slightly.  
“Blackwall? Warden Blackwall?”  
The man turned, his silver helmet reflecting the light as he quickly moved towards her, the Gryphon symbol on his breastplate now clearly visible.  
“Your not-How do you know my name?” He asked curtly. “Who sent-”  
His words were cut off by his shout as he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, raising his shield up just in time to prevent an arrow from lodging itself into Clara’s throat. The two of them turned in the direction the arrow flew from, seeing several men running at them with weapons drawn. The man, Blackwall, took a step away with a grunt.  
“That’s it. Help or get out.” He practically growled, drawing his sword from his belt. “We’re dealing with these idiots first!”  
He turned towards his men.  
“Conscripts! Here they come!” He motioned and charged towards the battle, slamming his shield in to one of the bandits as they came running, shattering the arrow that was protruding from it across his jaw, sending him sprawling into the dirt. The conscripts nodded, seemingly inspired by his show of athleticism, as they also rushed in, holding up their shields and setting up in to what seemed like a somewhat practiced shield wall. Clara smiled and drew the sword off of her back, rushing up to a bandit who was trying to flank behind the Warden, bringing the large blade down with a sickening crunch as it sliced straight down the man’s shoulder and about half-way into his chest. The man made a deep gurgling sound as he collapsed to the floor, her blade prying out of his flesh with ease as she turned to take a long sweep at two others who were rushing in. One of them managed to jump out of the way, but the other was nearly cleaved in two by the force of the blow.  
The fight only lasted a few seconds, and she was already sheathing her sword as she saw Cassandra was only about half-way across the bridge. There were some bolts and arrows strewn about, and some marks that looked an awful lot like lighting strikes. Giving a silent thanks to her ranged companions, Clara turned to see the Warden bent down over one of their attackers, blood smeared across the silver plate and Gambeson he wore.  
“Sorry bastards…” He sighed and stood up, looking back to his men who were breathing hard, but unhurt.  
“Good work conscripts. Even if this shouldn’t have happened. They could've...well thieves are made, not born.” He motioned to the bodies. “Take back what they stole. Go back to your families. You’ve saved yourselves.”  
The men nodded, walking off to gather what loot the could, one of them stoping to give the Warden a hand-shake, and eyesing Clara nervously, as Blackwall turned back to her, taking off his helmet to reveal the long, sweaty mass of black hair on his head, and the equally black and messy beard. Clara took half a second to take him in, tall broad and burly. He was quite the attractive man, even if he did seem a bit older than she had expected.  
“Your no farmer. Why do you know my name? Who are you?” He asked, leaning back against a tree as he took a drink from a water-skin.  
“I know your name because I’m an agent of the Inquisition. Clara Trevelyan.” She gave a curt bow of greeting, which he returned, almost as if by instinct. “I’m investigating whether the dissapearance of Wardens has anything to do with the murder of the Divine.”  
“Makers Balls, the Wardens and the Divine?” He started pacing again, apparently it was a thing for him. “That cant-No, your asking, so you don’t really know.”  
He stopped again, looking straight at her, his hand resting lasily on his sword hilt.  
“First off, I didn’t know they had disappeared, but we do that right? No more Blight, job done, Wardens are the first thing forgotten. But one thing I’ll tell you, no Warden killed the Divine.Our purpose isn’t political.”  
She held up her hands, a gesture to calm him down.  
“I’m not here to accuse, not yet. I just need information. I’ve only found you. Where are the rest?”  
“I haven’t seen any Wardens for months.” He shrugged. “I travel alone, recruiting. Not much interest because the Archdemon is a decade dead. And no need to conscript because there’s no Blight coming. Treaties give Wardens the right to take what we need, who we need.” He looked at the bodies strewn around them. “These idiots forced this fight, so I ‘conscripted’ their victims. They had to do what I said, so I told them to stand. Next time they won’t need me.”  
He looked away for a second, as if an old memory had suddenly come up. He closed his eyes and took a breath before continuing.  
“Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are.”  
Clara sighed. He doesn’t know anything, as I feared. Leliana won’t be happy to hear this. She looked around at the bodies herself, shaking her head before looking back up at the man, his dark gray eyes looking at her with a soldiers focus. She felt butterflies in her stomach for a second as she cleared her throat.  
“Well, thank you, Warden Blackwall...but now where does this leave us?” She sighed and looked over to her companions, who were now all standing together again at the other end of the bridge, watching anxiously, Cassandra still had her blade out. She started to walk towards them, gently brushing by Blackwall to get to the bridge. A large hand took hold of her elbow, gently.  
“Inquisition agent, Trevelyan, did you say? Hold a moment.” Blackwall asked, taking a step forward as Clara turned to meet him. “The Divine is dead, and the sky is torn.Events like these, thinking we’re absent is almost as bad as thinking we’re involved.”  
She looked at him as he let go of her arm, nodding slowly, making a note at how close he was, she could smell the sweat from the fight.  
“If you’re trying to put things right...maybe you need a Warden.” He shifted a little. “Maybe you need me.”  
Her heart fluttered again and she cleared her throat. He’s certainly a skilled fighter, and he’s right, Wardens do have a tendency to inspire….  
“We...need all the support we can get, but...what can one Grey Warden do?” She swallowed her words at the end, trying not to sound too eager at the prospect of his burly man joining her growing group of companions. He gave a small, almost wry smirk.  
“Save the fucking world if pressed.” He chuckled, motioning to the land around him, to Ferelden. “Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn’t something I’m practiced at, but show me someone who is. And like I said, there are Treaties. Maybe this isn’t a Blight, but it’s bloody well a disaster. Some will still honor them. Being a Warden means something to allot of people.”  
She rested her hands on her belt, chewing her bottom lip as she usually did when she had to think hard. Leliana wanted Wardens and answers, Josephine would love those Treaties, and undoubtedly Cullen would rejoice at having another experienced man to help with his soldiers. She took a glance at her companions again, normally she would ask Cassandra, but she didn’t want to have to call them over there right now, and considering she was the one asking the questions, it would be strange to show her rank being lower than the Seeker. She looked back up at Blackwall and game a small smile.  
“Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer.” She stated with a nod. He returned the smile.  
“Good to hear. We both need to know what’s going on.” He turned to walk towards the house, probably to get his things, but he stopped and looked back at her, a small light glinting in his eyes. “And perhaps I’ve been keeping to myself for too long. This Warden, walks with the Inquisition.”


	2. First week in Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara spends some time in Haven, getting new assignments, helping The Warden settle in, and getting teased a bit by her friends. While something has certainly started to grow, she doesn't quite know where it will go.

Chapter 2: Haven

The journey back to Haven was a long one, as usual, and more exhausting than usual. Unfortunately Warden Blackwall didn’t have a horse, and so he had to ride double. Cassandra was already carrying Varric on her horse, and since Clara was already quite the burden on poor Buttercup due to her heavy armor, the Warden had to ride with either Sera, Solas, or Vivienne. Luckily, and rather shockingly, the large, solemn bearded man made quick friends with the small elven rogue, and so they had no problem riding together, but even so, it did make things a bit more complicated.   
Some of the group had been hesitant to speak to the new companion at first, not really sure what to make of the strange man. The first few days were spent in relative silence, with only the occasional word being exchanged between the companions when the need arose. Nonetheless, the group did manage to return to the frozen town, were Denet happily took their horses for care and rest, and Cullen instantly started talking to Cassandra about the state of things. Leliana and Josephine approached the group as soon as they stepped through the main gate, their eyes locking on to the new man.   
“Josephine, Leliana, this is Warden Blackwall.” Clara introduced immediately. “He’s offered us his assistance and had decided to join the Inquisition, for now at least.”   
“A Pleasure to meet you.” The Warden gave a stiff bow. The two ladies gave similar greetings.   
“Thank you for joining us, Warden Blackwall.” Leliana said with a sly smile. “I know you are probably tired from your journey, but would you mind coming to have a small chat? I have some questions I’m hoping you can answer.”   
“And I will make sure we have a suitable place for you to sleep while you are here, Ser.” Josephine instantly made a note on the board she always carried around. Clara smirked and raised an eyebrow at Blackwall, who seemed a bit taken aback by the sudden onslaught of work.   
“There’s never a boring day here in Haven.” Clara chuckled, rolling her shoulders. “I am going to get changed out of this armor and take a bath. Once you’re done being interrogated you can meet me at the pub, I’m sure Flissa will be more than happy to serve us some cheap ale so we can talk a bit.”   
“Sounds like a Plan.” Blackwall smiled back. “Though I’ll probably try to clean myself up a bit first. But I’ll meet you there.”   
With a small bow Blackwall walked away with the two women, Clara watching for a few moments before turning toward the little hut that had been assigned to her. When she had woken up after her first attempt to seal the Breach, Josephine had offered her some extremely nice quarters in the Chantry, but she had refused. She had been sleeping in chantry barracks ever since her parents had sent her off to train as a templar at the age of six. She was tired of all of the religious iconography and the constant sound of chanting. She had never been one for that sort of thing, possibly because she had been given no choice in the matter. So when people started calling her the Herald of Andraste, she got rather irritated.  
But by now she was starting to get used to the title, whether she liked it or not. And so she made the best of the situation. She stepped in to the little hut to find a small elven girl pouring some boiling hot water into the brass wash tub that Josephine had made sure to provide. Clara smiled and thanked the girl for the bath as she left. Sighing she turned and carefully tested the water with her hand. It was far too hot to get in right away, so she decided to check the new stack of papers that had been left on the small desk by the window.   
Just as she was bending to read the first line, a heavy knock on her door drew her away. She sighed and turned to answer the door, were she found her new best friend waiting.   
“Varric!” She smiled. “I figured you would be off to get some rest.”   
“Oh I plan to.” He smiled back. “But I wanted a small chat first. And this time, to apologize for my interruption of your own relaxation, I brought a gift.”   
The dwarf held up a bottle and Clara’s grin grew wider.   
“Come on in, Master Tethras.” She said with an exaggerated bow. Varric laughed and stepped through the threshold, instantly plopping himself in to one of the wooden chairs at the small table. Clara grabbed two mugs off of the shelf and set them down in front of him, were he poured two generous servings of the deep red liquid.  
“Enjoy, Lady Trevelyan. This might be the last good stuff you’ll have for a while.” He raised the cup to her, and she gently clinked her own against it before taking a drink.  
Thick, sweet, and smooth. It was a good red, though probably meant for after dessert in some sort of fancy meal. Still she closed her eyes and enjoyed the delicate flavors for a second before bending down to start unbuckling her boots.   
“So, what did you want to chat about?” She asked as she worked on removing the heavy plates of her armor. Varric smirked and leaned against the table.   
“Our new friend, The Warden.”   
She looked up at him, her blue eyes blinking tired and confused.  
“What about him?”   
“Well he was pretty quiet.” He said with a shrug. “And we never really got a whole lot of information about your little chat, or the random thugs that decided to ambush the two of you?”   
“Oh, that.” She sat up to pull the plate off of her shoulders, sighing happily at the loss of the weight. “They were bandits that had stolen from the refugees. He was helping to teach them to defend themselves, and the bandits didn’t like that, I guess.”   
“No, most bandits don’t like it when their victims learn to fight. Makes their jobs harder.” Varric chuckled, shaking his head. “But that aside, what do we really know about this guy? I mean sure he’s big, burly, and has a beard that would make most dwarves jealous. But other than him being a Warden, what do we really know? He wasn’t too talkative.”   
“He’s been alone for months he said.” Clara leaned back to take another sip of wine. “Recruiting. Apparently it’s his thing. I don’t think he’s really used to being around so many people, especially ones that are as suspicious and curious as the Inquisition.”   
“And yet he joined up?”   
“He’s a Warden. He wants to keep people safe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of that symbol on his armor, but I want to trust him. He...feels like a good man.”   
“I’m sure he does.” Varric smirked. “And I’m sure the fact that your smitten by him has nothing to do with that?”   
“I beg your pardon?” Clara felt her face flush bright red. Varric laughed.   
“On please! We could see your face turn bright red from across the lake!” He downed the rest of his cup. “But hey, there’s nothing wrong with that! People get smitten, though I would have thought him a bit old for you. What are you, nine-teen? Twenty?”   
“Twenty-Three thank you very much…” She mumbled, sipping at her wine more aggressively, trying to hide her red cheeks in her cup. “And so what if I am, as you say, smitten? It’s not like anything can happen, we are in the middle of a war, and, there is a massive hole in to the Fade looming above us. It’s hardly a set up for romance.”   
“Ah, now that is where you are wrong! Tragedy is the perfect set up for romance, at least in the books.” Varric shrugged and hopped out of his chair. “But, I guess it’s not my place. Be smitten all you like, kid. From what I saw, he might be in a similar state, the way he kept glancing over at you from his horse and all. If he’s been alone for so long, it’s probably been even longer since he’s seen a pretty lady.”  
Clara blushed even deeper. He had been staring at me? Why didn’t I see him? She cleared her throat and shook her head.   
“I’m sure he was just staring at, I don’t know, the glowing green mark on my hand that can seal Fade rifts?”   
“Maybe….” Varic smirked. “But I don’t think it was your hand his eyes lingered on. But, like I said, it’s not my place.” He started to make his way to the door and turned back with a smirk.   
“I’ve taken up enough of your very valuable free time. You relax, enjoy your bath and the wine. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to tease you about this later.”   
And he was gone. Clara stared at the closed door for a moment longer before sighing and putting her face in her hands, feeling a million shades of embarrassed. He was right, of course, she was very taken by the strange Warden. Despite how unkempt he was from wandering the wilderness, he had an odd attractiveness to him. He was broad and muscular, and the rare moments when he did smile, it was kind and very gentle. And he had very striking dark gray eyes, that seemed to observe a great deal.   
Clara let out a small moan as she felt a slight ache between her legs as she thought about what made Blackwall so attractive to her. She sighed and looked out of the window, seeing the light on a tree. She probably had a few hours before she would be meeting Blackwall for drinks.  
Nothing wrong with it, Clara. She told herself as she started to undress. Plenty of people have crushes and use their crush to help them...relax.   
She let her top fall on to the floor before stepping out of her trousers, looking down at the many bruises she had accumulated over the latest trip. She looked like someone had sent her through a meat grinder. She shook her head and went to her bath, stepping in to the still steaming water, instantly feeling the aches ebb away as she sank down into it. She leaned back, letting the water cover her body entirely up to the neck, stretching out her legs to rest on the opposite rim of the basin.  
She didn’t get to bathe often, usually she just resigned to a quick sponge bath, but Josephine had decided she should at least get one when she returned from and expedition.   
Closing her eyes, Clara slid her hand between her thighs, thinking back to the man that had lit that now painful heat. She thought back to when he had moved close, protecting her from the arrow, remembering the heat that came from his body, the smell, the sheer presence of such a large, broad man. She thought back to his hand on her arm, how he had been so gentle with his touch, despite being so big.   
She imagined those hands on her again, on her face, her shoulders. She imagined what they would feel like on her breasts, what it would be like to feel that beard against her skin as he kissed down her body. Her fingers moved through the red curls, gently massaging the soft flesh of her womanhood. Biting her lip she slid her other hand up to her breast, gently rubbing against the nipple as she imagined his lips around it, his tongue gently pressing against it. She slid a finger inside of herself, letting a small moan escape her throat.   
Her mind took her to her modest bed, laying out on it, sprawled wide and open, her hair strewn about like fire against the dull green cover, those dark eyes looking down at her as he pushed in, the weight of his chest feeling exciting and comforting. Her hand moved faster, matching the pace of the Warden in her imagination, rocking her hips against the fingers that massaged against the sensitive spot inside her, the water around her sloshing up to her chin, small rivlets occasionally escaping from the top of the basin.   
Slowly, she rode her fingers, and her mind, to a gentle climax. Her entire body shuddering with pleasure before sinking in to a sleepy, relaxed state. She breathed slow and deep, letting her hand slide away from her entrance as she looked up at the wooden ceiling of her hut.   
Fuck… She thought. This might have gotten a whole lot more complicated. 

 

Clara took the time to calm herself down and finish her bath, making sure to wash the filth out of her hair before stepping out of the quickly cooling water. She dried herself and put on a very simple outfit, a light gray tunic and some comfortable wool trousers. Leaving her usual boots to the side, she instead slipped on some simple cloth shoes, warmed from being set near the hearth.   
She double checked to make sure she had a bit of gold, and a dagger on her belt just in case, she opened the door and left her little house, the icy wind blowing through her damp hair, causing a shiver down her spine. She walked quickly, trying not to garner any extra attention from the people. Still the occasional murmur of “Walk in Piece, Herald of Andraste.” or “Maker Bless you.” Did still manage to follow her all the way to the pub.  
When she entered the warm, welcoming building, she was rather surprised to find it almost completely empty. Even Sera, who practically lived there, seemed to have left. The only ones who remained were Flissa, who was busying herself with washing out mugs, and sitting at a table in the corner, nursing a large mug, the broad shape of Ser Blackwall.   
Clara smiled and went to Flissa, setting down a small coin as the nervous little bar-keep turned to meet her. Flissa didn’t say a word, but just nodded and poured her a large drink, taking the coin with a bow of thanks and turning back to her work as Clara took her drink and made her way over to the table.   
“Leliana finished with you faster than I thought.” She said lightly. Blackwall looked up at her, his black hair still damp and swept back from his own bath.   
“Yes, well, there wasn’t much I could tell her about where my fellow Wardens are. At least not right now.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as she took a seat across the table from him. Now clean and dressed in plain clothes, Clara couldn’t help but flush a little at the sight. What one could have assumed to be the bulk of armor had really been him. He had extremely broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His white tunic was open slightly at the top, revealing dark curls of chest hair that nearly rivaled Varrics. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, the material that would have been loose-fitting on anyone else was pulled taught across large biceps. Several old combat scars danced across his exposed forearms.   
“Are you well, My Lady?” He asked, pulling her out of her examination.  
“Huh?” She asked, blinking.   
“You sort of dazed off there. And you’re flushed.” He said, a gentle concern in his voice. “You didn’t have to come to drink with me, if you’re tired, My Lady. I wouldn’t have taken any offence.”   
“No no, I’m fine.” She shook her head with a small chuckle. “I am tired, but I like coming here when I return anyway. Helps me wind down so I can actually sleep.”   
“I see…” He sounded sceptical. “Well, if you’re sure. Considering everything I did expect this place to be a bit more ...rowdy.”   
“It usually is.” Clara looked around at the empty pub. “And Sera is usually adding to the chaos. I guess people decided to turn in early today.”   
“Well, I won’t complain.” Blackwall shrugged. “I prefer the quiet anyways, more used to it.”   
“How long have you been on your own?” Clara asked, smiling up at Flissa, who had brought them over some small snacks, tiny green roasted peppers with salt. Blackwall raised an eyebrow at the food and reached into his pocket to pull out some coin for it, but Flissa shook her head.   
“On the House, Ser. Need to use em up before closing anyways.” Flissa bowed and left them, Blackwall looking very confused before turning back to their conversation.   
“Oh I think it’s been about...Six months? Seven?” He shrugged. “Though I guess technically it’s been years. I really only meet up with others for short periods, trading information and what not.”   
“I see.” She took a bite of a pepper, enjoying the spice on her tongue as her stomach rumbled at the introduction of hot food. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? Blackwall isn’t an Orlesian name, and I can’t quite place that accent.”   
Blackwall chuckled, taking a bite of his own.   
“Free Marches, originally. Markham.” He said. Clara wrinkled her brow at that and he laughed louder, a deep rumbling bark. “I spent many years in Orlais though. The accents probably mixed up a bit.”   
“That must be it.” She chuckled back. “I’m from Ostwick myself.”   
“Your father is Bann there right?” He asked. “I remember hearing the name quite often in the past. Your family has a...pious reputation.”   
“That’s putting it mildly.” She scoffed. “I swear I’m related to half the Free Marcher Chantry.”   
“Are you not particularly religious, My Lady?”   
“I believe in the Maker. I say my prayers and show the proper respect, but I never wanted to be a sister, or a Templar.” She shrugged. “And I certainly don’t like being called The Herald of Andraste! Thats...alot to live up to.”   
“I can only imagine.” He sighed and looked out one of the windows, the light outside glowing an eerie green as the Breach started to light up the night sky. “I saw it...it’s so much easier to ignore when it’s far away. Maker, and for someone to have actually walked out of it...to be that close.”   
“I was lucky.” She sighed, looking down in to her mug. “If the Inquisition soldiers hadn’t saved me, I don’t know what would have happened.”   
“The soldiers?” He looked back at her. “It’s not what I heard, I think I recall something about them keeping you in a dungeon?”   
“Cassandra was a bit...suspicious.” She shrugged. “It’s in her nature, you’ll get used to it.” They both chuckled.   
“Just one question then. If you don’t think your the Herald, then how do you think you fit in with all of this?” He asked, raising his mug to his lips.   
“I just want to help stop the war.” She sighed. “Get things back in order.”   
“A worthy goal.” He smiled. “One I’m happy to support. Though, for me, I’ll be satisfied so long as we find the bastards that killed the Divine. They owe us some answers.”   
“Cheers to that.” Clara raised her glass. Blackwall clanked his own against hers and they both drained the rest of their drinks. Clara looked over to Flissa for a second to check and make sure she wasn’t busy, before standing up. “You want another? My treat.”   
“I...wouldn’t want to impose…” He seemed hesitant, she laughed.   
“Consider it my welcoming present.” She took both of the mugs up to the counter, were Flissa happily exchanged them out with two new ones.   
“He’s very nice.” Flissa said softly as she worked to uncork the bottle. Clara nodded, leaning against the counter. “Will Warden Blackwall be staying with us long?”   
“I think he plans too.” She said, equally quiet. “I hope so. He’s experienced, and has a good sword arm.”   
“I wonder if any other Wardens might join him here…” Flissa mused as she poured the ales. “Well, either way, I’m sure he’ll be a massive help.”   
“I think so too. Thanks Flissa.” She paid the young lady and took the drinks back over. Blackwall nodded a thanks and took his ale with a smile.   
“You’re a skilled fighter, Lady Trevelyan. Where did you learn, if I may ask?”   
“The Ostwick Chantry.” She smiled. “My father noticed I was a bit of an athletic little girl, a bit rambunctious, figured I’d make a better Templar than a priest.”   
“You’re a Templar?” He asked, surprised.   
“Not really.” She shrugged. “I never took any lyrium anyways. But I did get all of the training. At least the combat lessons stuck.”   
“Not a very apt student?” He chuckled.   
“Easily bored.” She grinned back. “At least back then.”  
“And now?”   
“I’m not sure. Things haven’t been boring since Kirkwall went to shit.”   
“Fair enough.”   
The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their ales silently as they enjoyed the warm hearth. Clara reached for another pepper and chanced a glance up at the Warden, and caught his eyes darting up and down her person. As soon as his eyes reached her face though he seemed to have noticed her stare. She raised an eyebrow at him with a small smile. He gave a wry shrug.   
“My apologies.” He said quietly, so that Flissa would not hear.   
“No need.” She replied equally as quiet. “I’ll just take it as a compliment.”   
He chuckled again, that deep rolling in his chest that made Clara feel like her spine was vibrating.   
“Oh, did Josie get you sorted out with sleeping quarters yet, Ser Blackwall?” She asked, quick to change the subject lest her ears turn as red as her cheeks.   
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be rooming up with Harrit. I think she said he was the...blacksmith?”   
“Yep, that’s him.” She smiled. “You’re a lucky one, Varric’s still sleeping in a tent. Though I think that’s by his own choice…”   
“Well I just hope Harrit doesn’t mind. He seemed like a decent man, if a bit on the gruff side.”   
“You’ll get along perfectly.” She mused aloud. Blackwall laughed and moved to stand, picking up his empty tankard and the now empty bowl.  
“I suspect your right.” He smiled. “Though now I think I have to turn in. I would say I have embarrassed myself more than enough for one evening, and I suspect there is plenty of work to do tomorrow. Sleep well, Lady Trevelyan.”   
“Goodnight, Warden Blackwall.” She smiled up at him and watched him take the dishes to Flissa, who thanked him and wished him a good night, before he slipped out of the door and into the dark town.   
Clara smiled to herself a bit as she downed the rest of her drink. She slid to her feet and took her cup to Flissa, wished the young bar-keep a good night, and retired to her house for a nights sleep.   
The following days consisted of the usual chaos of Haven. Running around, checking in with everyone, helping with getting people trained, equipped, sorted in to quarters, occasionally having to give some sort of inspiring bull shit to keep hopes up. Even though she had more comforts in Haven, a warm bed, fresh food, clean clothes, Clara quickly found herself anxious to get back on to the road. Haven was becoming more and more cramped, with various refugees, Josephine’s visiting dignitaries, and more and more scouts and soldiers.   
The treaties Blackwall had informed them of ended becoming a great help. Josephine was able to convince several noble houses around Orlais and Ferelden to give their aid to the Inquisition, encouraged by the presence of a Grey Warden.  
Clara was pleased to see that his presence had such an impact on their small Inquisition. From his first full day, he was at work, mainly at Cullen’s pleading, to help train new soldiers, and refugees who had decided to pick up arms in their name. Blackwall was a skilled fighter, and with his title as Warden, the men showed him great respect and were eager to make him proud. When he wasn’t training soldiers, he was helping with other manual labor. Harrit could always use an extra pair of arms at the forge, even if it was just moving heavy materials around. He would gather firewood for the town, help pitch new tents, make repairs, he was on the move almost as much as Clara was.   
About a week after arriving, on the day before they were set to head out to the Storm Coast to meet some mercenary company that had offered their aid, Clara was with Harrit, getting some new armor, a design Josephine had managed to procure that might give her a little more protection as well as mobility, when she saw Blackwall leaving the town towards the small forests that surround the town, carrying a heavy looking wood-axe over his shoulder. Her eyes followed him for a moment before turning back to Harrit who was thinking something over.  
“I can have this done by the end of the day, Herald.” He nodded. Clara smiled.   
“Thanks Harrit. I really appreciate it.”   
“Not at all. It’s just my job.”   
She nodded her thanks and left her old armor with him, for the sake of measurements, before turning and walking off into the woods.   
She walked for a short while, hearing the din of Haven fade into the background as she heard the heavy thwacking sound of an axe in wood. Turning past a large tree she found Blackwall in a small clearing, hacking at a thick tree branch to cut it into smaller chunks. His eyes looked up at her as he straightened his back.   
“My Lady.” He smiled. “Is there something I can help you with?”   
Her gut clenched. She didn’t actually have anything to say, she had just wanted to see him. They had been so busy all week, they simply hadn’t had the time to chat again. She leaned against a nearby tree, smiling a little as she tried to think of something to say.   
“You’re oddly charming for a man I found wandering the wilderness…” She said and mentally slapped herself. Nice going Clara. So smooth, very subtle. Maker your so stupid.   
Blackwall laughed and stuck the axe in to the log he had been working on, pulling out a rag to wipe his brow with.   
“I always thought myself more awkward than charming, but I’ll take a compliment from a lady.” He smiled. “They’re hard to come by these days.”   
“Compliments? Or Ladies?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. His chuckle was deep as thunder.  
“Both!” He replied, wiping the back of his neck. “So...is there something large and heavy you need moved?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at her almost suspiciously.   
“I was just looking to chat. No ulterior motive. I promise.” She smirked.   
“I do enjoy our chats. Though we haven’t had many, since arriving in Haven.” He stepped towards her. “I have to say, My Lady, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I’m flattered you’d spend any time with me. I...enjoy your company.”   
“I enjoy yours as well.” She leaned forward a bit, her heart racing as he got closer. “I know we haven’t had much time to chat since arriving, it’s been rather hectic. But I would love to treat you to another couple of rounds before we have to head out tomorrow.”   
“I’d enjoy some drinks.” He nodded, “Though this time I insist on being the one to treat you. It’s only fair.”   
“If you insist.” She shrugged. “You want to meet up at about five? I’m sure Sera will be happy to join us.”  
“I look forward to it.” He chuckled. “Now I better get back to chopping. Harrits been running that forge like a mad man. Goes through more wood than I’ve ever seen before.”   
“It’s a lot of soldiers to supply.” She shrugged. “You want a hand? I actually have some free time, for once, and I don’t know what to do with myself.”   
He looked at her for a moment, before nodding slowly.   
“If you would like...do you have an axe?”   
“Not on me, but I can run back and get one. It's not even a five minute walk.”   
“Fair enough. I’ll be here then.”   
Clara nodded and turned to go back to town. She saw Cassandra stomping around, as if looking for someone.   
“What did Varric do this time to make you so mad?” She asked as she approached, picking up a wood axe off of its perch. It was a spare, kept hanging up when no one was using it.   
“There you are!” She huffed. Clara sighed.   
“What did I do?!” She frowned, instantly feeling defensive.   
“Where were you?”   
“In the woods having a tryst.” Clara replied bluntly, dripping with sarcasm. “I was talking with the Warden. And now I’m going to help him gather firewood for the forge so Harrit can make more armor. Did you need me for something?”   
“I wanted to discuss tomorrow with you.” Cassandra said, resting her hands on her hips. Clara rolled her eyes.   
“We spent four hours discussing it last night.” She said. “I think we covered everything.”   
“Not everything.” Cassandra sneered slightly, cleary unhappy with the younger warrior’s attitude. “Who do you plan on bringing with you?”   
“What do you mean?”   
“There’s so much work to get done...you should take a smaller party, so the others can help out here.” Cassandra crossed her arms. “Take three with you. No more. That should be plenty. It won’t draw too much attention.”   
Clara sighed.   
“Fine. I will think on who I will take and give my answer before I retire for the night.” She conceded, knowing how useless it was to argue with the Seeker. Cassandra sighed and nodded, looking back at the forest behind Clara.   
“Let me guess, you already have one decided?” She raised an eyebrow. Clara clenched her jaw. “He’s a fine man, and more pleasant than some of your other companions, but don’t get too attached. He’s a Warden, and your the Herald. You both are bound by duty.”   
And with that Cassandra turned to other business. Clara sighed loudly and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen out of her long braid.   
“Fuck duty. We all might die tomorrow.” She sighed under her breath, thinking back to her recent talk with Blackwall. “I...enjoy your company.” He had said that to her. She had also caught him looking her over at the bar their first night. So what if they’re bound by duty? Does that mean they can’t even enjoy each other's company while they can?  
Shaking her head, Clara turned back towards the woods, moving fast to find Blackwall having moved on to cutting down another branch.  
“Sorry that took so long.” She sighed. “Cassandra caught me.”   
“Does she need you for something?” He asked as the branch cracked off of the tree, him stepping aside to make sure it didn’t hit him. “If she does it’s fine, you don’t have to bother yourself with this…”   
“No she’s fine.” She shook her head and started helping him shave the smaller twigs and leaves off of the thick lumber. “I need to cut down my traveling group, it’s getting pretty big. She wants me to only take three people with me.”   
“Any thoughts on who?” He asked, not looking up.   
“Well, I could always use a shield at my back.” She shrugged. “You interested in going with?”   
“It would be a pleasure.” He smiled. “Who else would be our companions then?”   
“Well a mage would be good to have, and Solas is quite the healer. Viviene is a powerhouse though…”   
“You can do quite a bit of damage yourself though.” He chuckled. “It’s not my place, but I recommend having someone who can keep you up. Those barriers of his are something special.”   
“Your right.” She smiled at him. “Solas it is then. But then that leaves the last spot. I figured either Varric or Sera, we could use a light foot and an archer. Thing is...Ser and Solas tend to have some...tension.”  
“How so?”   
“He’s too...elfy, according to Sera.” She shook her head. “They just have very different viewpoints and can’t really seem to get along. They work well together though, in a pinch. Seen them pull off some impressive combos.”   
“Well, maybe Varric then?” Blackwall shrugged. “He seems to get along with most everyone. Except for Cassandra, I suppose. But those two seem to have history.”   
Clara snorted a laugh, raising her axe and chopping out a large chunk of wood to start making the branch in to logs.   
“History is an understatement.” She muttered. “But I think your right. You three will be a good group, I think.”   
“I hope so. At the very least we have a good leader.”   
Clara looked at him, her face turning pink again. The two of them worked in silence for a while, spending the next few hours chopping up wood until they had enough for the rest of the day.   
Knowing it would take a few trips to bring it all back, they both loaded up their arms and started walking back, when part way there Blackwall chuckled to himself, shaking his head.   
“What?” She asked him, frowning a little.   
“I just remembered how stupid that comment I made about you needing something heavy moved was.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “Just remind me never to make you angry.”   
Clara laughed as they dumped the wood down in the proper pile before turning to gather the second bunch.   
“I’m not that scary…” She said with a laugh. “I’m sure you could still beat me in a one on one fight.”   
“Oh you're probably right.” He smiled. “But only because I use a shield.”   
The two of them finished gathering the wood, finally putting the last couple of logs down in to their pile before stretching their backs and rolling their shoulders.   
“I’m going to go clean up.” Blackwall sighed heavily. “I’ll meet you at the pub later?”   
“Sounds like a Plan.” She nodded and turned to go wash and change herself.   
That night of drinks was exceedingly more rambunctious than the previous. The whole group they had started to gather was present, as well as the heads of the Inquisition. Clara managed to get some major satisfaction from watching Leliana beat Cassandra at a drinking contest, and Josephine dancing with Cullen was one of the most adorable acts of drunkenness she had ever seen. Clara had made sure to inform Solas and Varric that they would be joining her and Blackwall out on the Storm Coast to go meet these “Bulls Chargers” as they called themselves. And so the two of them were actually drinking responsibly, Solas sitting in a corner silently drinking a glass of wine while Varric chatted it up with some of the other patrons around the room.   
Clara however, was sitting at a table a little out of the way, were people could still come by and talk to her easily, but she wasn’t about to jump in to the thralls of patrons who were cheering loudly and dancing. At her side, Blackwall simply leaned against the wall, nursing one mug of ale most of the night.   
Even though Sera called both of them broody party poopers for staying on the sidelines, Clara admittedly loved the atmosphere. If she didn’t have to start out early the next morning she would have taken the little elven woman up on her challenge of a contest of her own.Allas, as it was, Clara finished her last drink and stood up, heading to Flissa to give her the cup.   
“Try not to let them get too carried away.” She said with a smile, making sure to give her a good tip for her hard work that night.   
“Oh! Are you retiring already, M’Lady?” She asked, her face flushed from her constant scurrying around.   
“Someone has to be awake to get things moving in the morning.” She laughed and turned to the crowd. “And since you lot probably won’t be on you feet by the time we head out, I’ll see you when we get back.”   
Cassandra gave a sort of drunken snort as many of the patrons all raised their glasses with an indistinguishable cheer. Nice thing about alcohol. She thought to herself. No one floods me with all of that, walk in peace shit. As she was about to leave another cup set on the table beside her. She looked up to see Blackwall put his own money down on the counter, with a hefty tip of his own.   
“I think I’ll turn in to. These sort of parties are for the younger folks.” He smiled. “Shall I walk you back to your door, Lady Trevelyan?”   
“I would like that.” She smiled back and the two of them left the tiny pub together, just as a few more people started to enter through the other door. Clara sighed and rolled her shoulders, looking up at the dark sky above them.   
“It’s gonna snow tonight.” She said softly, he nodded, his eyes darting up.   
“Don’t think it will be a storm at least.” He said, his hands slipping in to his pockets. “Might even be done by the time we head out.”   
“I hope so. Last thing we need is to be caught in a storm in the mountains.”   
“We’ll manage, if it comes to that.”   
She nodded to him and they made their way around the corner and up to her little house. She put her hand on the door before turning to him, looking up.   
“Thank you, for joining the Inquisition, Ser Blackwall.” She said with a smile. “It has already helped a great deal.”   
“It’s not a problem.” He smiled back. “I think this Inquisition can do great things, and its sort of my job to help deal with disasters.”   
“Still...I’m glad you are here.” She gave a small down. “Good night Ser.”   
“Good night, My Lady.” He bowed back before turning to go to his own quarters.   
Clara watched him leave before slowly turning to her small house, and entering it for the night.


End file.
